With a huff and a few muttered oaths under his breath, Mr. Culpepper turned on his heel and stormed out of the office. David puffed out his cheeks and smiled at Mr. Fenn before turning back to the letter from Mr. Cox. Setting it down, he scribbled out a reply and signed Father’s name to the bottom.
For all that an entail on the Leighs’ property had caused no end of troubles for Benjamin, David understood the sentiment behind the action. An estate grew over generations, becoming so much more than a mere income or house. It was a legacy. David’s own grandfather had grown this mill from nothing, creating something of great value with strength enough to withstand many of the twists and turns of fate that upended so many other businesses.
But neither estate nor mill could survive a single negligent owner, and any father of sense would wish to protect that legacy from wastrels. An entail allowed the estate to continue on, protected from men like Mr. Leigh, who would sell off bits of the land that provided the income for their family. So many families were laid low by such actions, and David couldn’t help but toast Mr. Leigh’s father for seeing what was to come and doing what he could to protect Whitley Court.
Granted, the gentleman was also directly responsible for indulging in his son’s indolent behavior and raising his child to be a wastrel. David hadn’t met the man, but he’d known his own grandfather well enough to imagine it was true.
Rubbing at his forehead, David set aside those thoughts and turned his attention back to the work at hand. Whitley Court was protected from Mr. Leigh, and Rawlston Mill was blessed to have a master who rarely stirred himself to insert himself into its happenings, leaving David free to guide it along.
A chiming clock near Mr. Fenn’s desk pulled David from his work. Glancing at the pocket watch propped up on one side of the desk, he growled at himself and shuffled the papers on his desk into proper stacks before rising from his seat and putting on his jacket.
Leaving was hardly the responsible thing to do, but his appointment with Benjamin wouldn’t wait. David knew better than to throw his friend over, for the fellow would simply descend upon Rawlston Mill, and then nothing would get done. If the last few hours of the work day were to be wasted, David might as well do it properly.
Besides, there was other important business that needed seeing to.
With a nod at Mr. Fenn, David strode out of the office, his mind sifting through what he’d done today and what still needed to be addressed. Ticking off the items, he refused to let his shoulders droop as he considered just how little he’d accomplished. Mr. Fenn was quite capable of managing the day-to-day operations, but there were so many broader issues that were beyond the mill manager’s purview, and the mountain of missives waiting on his desk attested to David’s failure.
Drawing in a deep breath, he forced his feet forward. Workers moved about the courtyard, hauling deliveries of cotton into the store rooms, and he dodged them and stepped into the streets of Olde Towne. The buildings were worn, and the faint pall of coal dust darkened the red brick facades. Yet another reason his family avoided the mill itself, as this portion of town was so much gloomier than that of New Towne, but the streets were filled with commerce and life, and David adored the sight.
Too many businesses had shut their doors in the wake of the economic upheaval and panic that took hold five years ago, and the country was only just healing. And so, David ducked around the people and vehicles clogging the streets and sent out a silent prayer of gratitude for the noise and congestion.
Following the street, he crossed River Dennick, the sounds of Olde Towne’s industry and mills fading as he wandered into the new side with its cottages, houses, and shops. It was like two towns fused into one, though both had always been Greater Edgerton.
Turning down the road that followed the river, David made his way past the townhouses and shops that made up the heart of New Towne until he reached the edge, where the close-stacked buildings began to spread. Little gardens and courtyards cropped up around the edges, and further still stood Whitley Court.
Unlike many of the buildings in town, this was made of gray stone, giving it a unique appearance that set it apart from all the other red block-like buildings. Gravel crunched beneath David’s feet as he walked the drive to the front door. The maid greeted him and ushered him into the parlor to find Benjamin stretched across a sofa, his eyes fixed on a novel.
“Finally,” he said, tossing aside the entertainment and rising to his feet. “I had almost given up on you.”
David checked his pocket watch. “I am barely tardy.”
With a sigh, Benjamin dropped back into his seat. “Yes, well. I’ve had nothing to do all day. Your visit is the only thing I have on my schedule this week.”
A tart response came to mind, but David held it back. At present, having nothing to do sounded brilliant, but a quick study of his friend’s drawn expression silenced that thought. Troubles were troubles for a reason, and comparing them was hardly helpful or fair. Besides, he and Benjamin were merely two sides of the same coin at any rate. If not for Mr. Fenn’s silent assistance, David wouldn’t be allowed to do anything for the family, and he would be sitting about, twiddling his thumbs.
“Well, I am here,” said David, taking a seat opposite. “And I was hoping I might enlist your aid.”
Benjamin’s brows rose, and he straightened. “With what?”
“I understand your family is familiar with Mrs. Ellery,” said David. “I had hoped you could get her an invitation to the concert next week.”
With a vague huff, Benjamin relaxed back into his seat and waved a dismissive hand. “I have no connection to the lady, nor do I have any sway over the concert. But I can ask my mother if you wish.”
“No.” David’s response held more of a bite than he’d intended, but the memory of her offering up poor Miss Hooper at the Hyatts’ picnic forced the word out. Softening his tone, he added with a smile, “My thanks, but I wouldn’t wish to bother her.”
Benjamin’s brows rose as he sank deeper into the seat. “Ah, but you do wish to bother me?”
“I do hate to disrupt your busy schedule,” replied David with a wry tone.
With a sigh, his friend smiled and shook his head. “Katherine is the better Leigh to ask, as she is heavily involved with the concert.”
David considered that. “True. And likely, she’ll know if Miss Hooper and Miss Lyons are planning on attending.”
“I thought you had dismissed both of them as your Mystery Lady,” said Benjamin with a cocked brow.
Drawing in a deep breath, David let it out in a heavy sigh. “Something your sister said has me reconsidering my position. People are far freer with their behavior when hidden by a mask, after all. I might’ve been too quick to dismiss them because they did not immediately remind me of the Lady.”
Crossing his arms, David reconsidered that. “I do not believe a second conversation will improve Miss Lyons, but your sister had a fair point. Fancy dress has a way of altering people, and it is unfair to expect my Mystery Lady to behave as she had when in costume. It may take time to discover the truth.”
